The Dogs
by wewritten
Summary: Expectations kill you. They silently wait until you're the most vulnerable, and then they lash out, ripping you to shreds with their claws, feeding off your tears and misery. I don't know why I haven't learned. Roxas centric, rated M for language, drug abuse and sadness.
1. Everything That Rises

**Chapter 1: Everything That Rises**

One day, a few years back, I was roaming around town, and I saw people. Some of them were laughing, some looked annoyed, and some looked at me strangely for looking at them. People are so funny, and in that moment I wondered if they realized they're beautiful. Beauty can be measured in so many ways, and I wanted everyone to know that. I could barely keep myself from standing in the middle of the town square, shouting nonsense about beauty. The only thing stopping me, was the thought that people wouldn't see the beauty in my observations, and that perverse thought was dirty and forbidden. Maybe I was just special, maybe only I could see how every person walking by was unique, and even though they may not have been blessed with good looks, something else about them would surely be beautiful, if only they'd accept it.

For a five year old boy, I was thinking about some pretty deep shit, I've got to admit. Thinking back on it, I doubt my previous thoughts. Not everyone has beauty inside of them, but maybe people can change something ugly into something that's not so bad. I'd like to believe that, it makes the world a little more bearable.

The news is horrible, these days. It's all death and destruction, war, murdered children. I wish I could help, I wish I could change lives. But I'm just a poor college student, and all I can do is hope that not too many innocent lives will be taken today. Luckily not everyone has to live such terrible lives, not everyone has to see the terrors some others see on a daily basis. Some people come from a good family, a family that takes care of each other. I come from a family like that, or mostly at least. My grandmother is the most amazing woman I will ever have the honour of meeting, and my uncle and my aunt are like my second parents. Such warm, and open people are hard to come by in times like these. It's why you need to keep a hold of them, and make sure you never lose them.

Unfortunately, life can be unpredictable, like the weather. You can guess at what's going to happen next, but then something unexpected happens and everything changes. Like when my grandpa died. He'd been sick for many years, but when he actually died, my whole family died, too. I still remember the day, the twentieth of January, a Saturday. It had been around half past eleven, in the morning. We were at my grandparents' house, my mother, brother and I. My uncle and my aunt – and their children of course – were there too. I think there were actually more people, but I can't remember. I guess my mind had had enough to deal with that day, and so it decided to just forget about the useless shit. I had been looking for something, I think it was my school books, I did have exams coming up so I needed to study. I'd forgotten them in my grandma's car, but it was locked, so I needed the keys. She was in the bedroom with my grandfather, along with my mother and uncle. There was a doctor too, grandpa had been very sick. At the exact moment, the _exact _fucking moment I walked in the room to ask for the keys, he died. My grandma shouted: "It's okay, Joseph, let go!", and that's when I walked in, and as I took a breath to ask for the keys, my grandpa breathed out his last.

Everyone was silent. My mother was crying, so was grandma. Uncle Zack was just standing there, stunned. I broke the silence.

"Grandma, where are your keys? I need my books."

She didn't speak.

"I think they're in her purse, Rox. It's on one of the chairs in the living room," uncle Zack said. I nodded, went inside to grab the keys. Slowly I walked to the car, and I got my books and locked myself in the study. I didn't cry. No one came in to talk to me. Sometime in the afternoon, my stepfather Auron walked in, and sat down on the chair facing mine. He said nothing. I continued studying. I remember feeling glad he respected my choice to stay silent, but I shouldn't have been surprised. Auron was a really nice man, and treated me and my older brother Sora like we were his own children. We sat in companionable silence for a little while longer, until; "Roxas," Auron started, "you don't have to talk to anyone, if you don't want to, but there are people here. If you decide to come out, you can." He got up from his chair, and walked over to my side. I refused to look at him, like I refused to look at people in general when I didn't feel like talking. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I did everything in my power to not flinch at the touch.

"Don't feel pressured, okay Rox? Whenever you're ready, we'll be there for you."

That was eight years ago, when I was thirteen years old. Sora had been fifteen at the time, and our little sister Paine was barely a month old. She never got to meet grandpa, and for that I feel sorry. But now that I'm twenty-one, it's not the time to dwell on such sad things of the past, is it? I should be out partying, not worrying about anything, deal with the here and now and let future Roxas deal with the future.

So that's exactly what I was doing. I was out with friends, in some club that was hosting a party. Not any party, mind you, a party for gays and lesbians and everything and everyone in between that. I don't really know what I am, I'm still questioning myself and I've decided to just not put a label on it. But when my friend Fang asked me to come, I couldn't say no. She would've dragged my sorry ass out of my tiny little campus apartment anyway, had I said no. And man, I did not feel like dealing with her abuse, that girl could hit _hard_.

So here we were. We were dancing, and when I say 'we' you know it's serious business, because I don't dance. It's like an unwritten rule of life: 'Roxas Strife will not dance'. Then alcohol happened and kept the rule from getting to me. I let go, there were no limits. No limit to my (horrible) dance moves, no limits to the amount of beer and cigarettes, no limit to the fucking sky. I was dancing, and I was having fun. Fang bet me a one-hundred munny, if I ended up kissing a guy. But in that moment, I didn't care. I didn't care about kissing, I didn't care about my crappy childhood, I didn't care about my non-existent love life. I cared about the booze and the music, and _god I just wanted to dance. _Had I ever been this intoxicated before? Jesus, I needed to stop drinking, but there Fang came, brining me more beer.

"Ya having a good time, mate?" she yelled in my ear, trying to make herself clear over the loud music.

"It's fucking _fantastic!_" I yelled back, grinning. She grinned back, and we drank and we danced. The night went on, and we were invincible. We could take on the world, we didn't have to be scared. She was a young goddess and I was a young god and the bartenders were our slaves and took care of our every need.

"You're dancing, Rox!" Fang hiccuped. I snorted.

"Remember it well, this will never happen again."

At one point when you're out drinking, you need to use the bathroom, and from that moment on, you just keep going. It's strange how that works, but my time had come yet again. I motioned to Fang that I would be right back, and she shook her wild dark brown hair and danced. She was beautiful, it was hard to keep my eyes off her sometimes, but I knew it would never happen. She was as gay as they come.

When I came back from relieving myself, I couldn't find Fang anywhere. That was okay, I just wanted to dance anyway. Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder, and a voice that said: "Let's go outside, a friend of mine brought Mary."

I turned around, already having recognized Fangs voice, and gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

Fang rolled her eyes. "Mary, marijuana, pot, weed. You know. Stuff."

She dragged me outside. On a bench sat a somewhat fat guy. He wasn't obese or anything, but he could stand to lose a few pounds.

"Roxas," Fang started, then pointed to the guy, "this is Pence. Pence, Roxas."

Pence smiled and waved. "Hey," he said. I smiled back. He asked me if this was my first time smoking weed. I shook my head.

"No, but I don't do it too often."

"That's okay" he laughed. "This is good, try some." He handed me the joint, and I happily took a drag, and after a while another, before passing it to Fang. The feeling of light headedness I knew would come, washed over me like a warm blanket, and I just wanted to sleep.

"Hey Pence," I drawled. "Can I... Can I just lay my head on your shoulder for a minute?"

Pence shared a knowing look with Fang, before grinning and saying: "Sure dude, go ahead."

I put my head on his shoulder, and that's when the roller coaster came down. I couldn't move, I could barely speak. I couldn't open my eyes and all I wanted was to just fucking sleep. I felt like a bag of potatoes, and Pence shook me and he said something but I can't remember what he said. He sounded worried, that scared me. Should I be worried? I didn't want to worry, I just wanted to sleep.

"Fang, Fang! Call an ambulance, he's not doing well." That was Pence, I think. What, was I lying on the ground? I didn't understand. They needed to know I was awake, but I didn't want to be. I just wanted to sleep, please, _please just let me sleep._

"Roxas!"

Slap.

"Roxas!"

Slap.

"God fucking _damnit!_"

Slap. I wished she would stop hitting me. I moaned, hoping she'd understand I was awake.

"Roxas, stay the fuck with me!"

Slap.

I opened my eyes. If only she'd just stop slapping me. I was tired. I closed my eyes again. Why couldn't I just go to sleep?

"Roxas don't you _fucking _dare!"

Slap.

"Fang, Fang," I managed to say. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Fang, I'm here," I searched for her hand, found it, and tried to squeeze. I don't remember if it worked. "Here... Fang..." I was just so tired. I needed to sleep.

"Fang, the ambulance is here." Pence.

"Alright, let's get him inside." Who was that?

"Will you be driving with us?"

"Yes." Fang.

I was lying still, but we were moving. I needed to vomit.

"What's your name, kid?" someone asked.

"It's Roxas," I whispered.

"What was that, lad? Didn't quite catch that." He sounded so patient, it was embarrassing.

"Roxas Strife."

"Okay Roxas Strife, where will we be taking you?" Did he have to be so friendly?

"Apartment. Wait. No. My keys? I don't know. My mom's place, then."

He asked me where that was, I somehow answered him. I knew Fang was there somewhere, I needed to see her but I couldn't open my eyes. Could I go to sleep yet? No of course not. I didn't deserve to go to sleep. I didn't deserve anything. I am just a worthless piece of shit who is apparently dumb enough to drink too much and then have a bad trip. Mom was gonna be so pissed, fuck, she's gonna be mad. Shit what am I going to do? I can't go home. I cried.

"I can't go home, she'll be mad. I can't go home, please, Fang, I just, I just want to die, Fang," I weeped, "I am _so _done with everything, I'm tired of being sad all the time. Fang, I just want to die. Please, let me die?"

Suddenly I was on the couch. The kitchen light was on, and I needed to pee. I looked around, everything was spinning.

"Hello?" I whispered loudly. No one answered. I was alone. I crawled to the bathroom, and did my thing. Nearly fell asleep, might as well have, I don't fucking remember. Back to the couch, underneath a thin red blanket.

Finally, I could sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning was like hell on earth. Never before had I had such a hangover. I was sure I was still drunk. I needed to pee again. I found my wallet on the bathroom floor, and all I could think was: good thing you remembered taking it out of your back pocket before it fell in the toilet. Yeah Roxas, real good job.<p>

Fuck I was a mess. My hair smelled of vomit, my clothes reeked of old beer and cigarettes. I thought about what grandpa would've said if he could see me now, but I decided I really didn't want to know. I didn't want to deal with the imagined disappointment, I already had to deal with my own.

I never thought being so disappointed in yourself, could beat feeling sad for all those years. I thought my depression was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but at that moment the disappointment I felt was too great. It would be best to just die on the spot.

Death.

Oh jesus fuck, what did I tell Fang? Did I talk about dying? I thought I could remember something about that. I may have mumbled too much, she may not have caught what I said. I didn't want to ask her. Fang was sad, too. I didn't want to burden her with my sadness, like I didn't burden anyone else with it. My sadness was my own, no one needed to know it was there.

I drank a glass of orange juice and took a shower. I tried to get the awful smell of vomit out of my hair, but that would take several days and lots of shampoo. While I was scrubbing myself down, I realized I shouldn't have drank orange juice. The acids in the drink did not play nice with my already upset stomach, and so it came out again. Jesus, I'm a dick to myself.

I got out of the shower and threw on my pyjamas. I was at my mom's and Auron's house, so I went back to my old bedroom. Everything was still as I had left it, but the bed had clean sheets. I think Auron did that before he left to whatever he had to do, because I was sure mom wouldn't take the time. Whoever did it, it was not important. Bed, sleep. Finally, sleep.

* * *

><p>I've tried to keep to British spelling, but if you notice any mistakes whatsoever, please don't hesitate to tell me so I can go and fix it.<p>

DiZ-claimer: I don't own jack shit.


	2. A Case For Shame

**Chapter 2: A Case For Shame**

Celebrating Christmas in Radiant Garden for the first time, was like eating sea salt ice cream for the first time. It was actually _snowing. _When we lived in Destiny Islands before, we saw pictures of snow of course, but it was a whole other thing to actually see it with your own eyes, and feel the cold snow flakes on your face. I loved it. I decided I never wanted to live somewhere where it wouldn't snow. The cold made me feel alive, and the white blanket that had settled on the buildings, made the world look peaceful. When it snowed, I felt like I could genuinely smile.

Snow made celebrating Christmas bearable. But, like every year, we went to visit grandma in Destiny Islands. I didn't mind visiting grandma, my uncle and aunt would be there too, so that was good. I just didn't like how we all pretended we were a happy family. We were fucked up, why did we need to pretend we were perfect like everyone else?

Car arrangements had been made by mom. She didn't want to sit in one car with me, of course. She was still quite angry about the whole 'getting home by ambulance' fiasco. I could understand, but I just wish she'd see that I regretted losing control like that. She didn't need to tell everyone about it, it was embarrassing enough as it was. Anyway, I was riding with Sora and our cousin Demyx. It was better than sitting in the same car with my mother for two and a half hours, but man it was exhausting.

"Sora, Sora, Sora! Go back to that other radio station!" Demyx shouted from the passenger seat. "The song they were playing was _so _cool, like, it's my favourite song of _all fucking time!_" For a twenty-four year old, Demyx sure didn't act like one.

But Sora excelled in Demyx-language, and he just grinned. "Dem, has anyone ever told you you're really gay? I mean, really. No straight man could listen to the Scissor Sisters."

"Dude," Demyx huffed, "_your brother _listens to the Scissor Sisters."

"My point exactly."

I sat in the back, staring out the window, and ignored them. The snowy landscape slowly transformed into one filled with tall trees, full of bright green leaves. I guess it was nice, but I preferred the numbing cold and the empty trees.

"Hey Rox, are you all fired up for Christmas yet?" Demyx asked excitedly. Christmas was about his favourite thing in the world, and I could never understand why that was.

"I don't like Christmas, Demyx. You know this." I sighed.

Demyx pouted. "Aw man, Rox_as_! You could at least try to have fun. You know your sister and my sister would like it if you tried."

I remained silent. It was okay, Demyx was a happy person and it wasn't his fault he didn't understand I didn't like getting together with family.

"Roxas," Sora interrupted my silence. "We'll get to the ferry in a little bit. Are you going to stay in the car?"

Typically, when we went to visit grandma in Destiny Islands, I would be an anti-social fuck and stay in the car while my parents and siblings would grab something to eat at the ferry's snack bar. Not me. I was already going to be stuck for them for a few days, I did definitely not want to extend the period of time I actually had to see them. Or my mom, more specifically.

"I'll be staying," I said.

Sora nodded. "Okay. Are you going to visit dad?" he asked. He always asked when we went to the Islands.

"No."

* * *

><p>Two weeks after the getting home drunk incident, it was my birthday. I turned twenty-two, and I had a week off from college. I was at home, and my mom was forcing a party on me. I didn't like celebrating my birthday; if people wanted to come over, they could, and we could have a good time. But I didn't want people to visit just because I invited them. It was awkward, and neither would have a good day. The people who mattered, would come over, and that's all what mattered to me.<p>

My mom thought differently.

"Roxas, will you put up these birthday decorations please?" she asked sweetly.

"Mom, I really don't want them, to be honest. I don't really see the point."

Mom sighed disapprovingly. "Jesus Rox. It's for your sister. She's only seven, she doesn't understand it's a party without the decorations. Just put them up."

"Is this not my birthday? Don't I get to choose whether I want decorations or not?" I asked. I realized I was being a little shit, but she pulled this kind of shit every year.

"Roxas, honestly. I've gone through the trouble to invite all these people and buy you a cake. The least you could do is put up the damn things."

"They're _your _friends, and I hate fruitcake," I deadpanned.

"God _dammit _Roxas! Next time you can just arrange your birthday your_self!_" She threw the decorations on the floor and stomped upstairs. I could feel the anger swelling in my stomach, travelling through my veins throughout my whole body. Before it could take a complete hold on me, I called for the dog.

"C'mon Pluto. Let's get the fuck outta here."

The walk was long, and when I came back my mother had put up the decorations. I sighed. It didn't matter how much we fought, she would always get her way in the end. When she saw me, her eyes lit up, like I was her favourite son and she hadn't seen me in years. If only that were true.

"Roxy, you're back! I quickly went to the store to get an apple pie as well, now we surely have enough cake to feed everyone." She smiled. She was actually not a bad looking woman, especially when she put on a little bit of make-up. Her smile finished the look. I wished she looked so gentle more often.

I realized she was making an effort to talk to me, without either of us having to say sorry. I appreciated the effort, and I knew I needed to meet her halfway.

"Thanks, mom." Her smile got wider.

"Auron will be home around five this afternoon. He'll pick up Paine on the way, so you won't see your little sister until later." She grabbed a cucumber and began to cut it in little pieces. "Jenny, Louise, and Kyle will be over around four I think," she continued cutting, "but I haven't heard from your dad, sadly."

The cutting continued, but I froze. "You _what?!_" I was seething. How _dare _she invite that man to my twenty-second birthday? It wasn't her place. How could she? She knew I didn't want him there.

"Mom what the fuck?! You know I don't want him around, you _know _I don't want to see him! What the fuck were you _thinking?_" I was rambling, talking too fast. I was just so angry. I just couldn't believe she invited that piece of shit.

She had quit cutting the cucumber by now, and stared at me wide eyed. "Roxas, I thought-"

"-well next time don't think!" I furiously rubbed my eyes, in an attempt to stop myself from pulling my hair out. "Look mom, I'm sorry. I just really don't want to see him."

"Well," she began, while she went back to cutting vegetables, "it's not like he was going to come anyways."

Silence fell over us like clouds loaded with electricity. I felt myself starting to explode – who says such a thing to their son? – but I knew I had to play it cool.

"No," I said. "No he wouldn't."

* * *

><p>We were the first ones to arrive. Demyx had driven with us, but his parents and his sister would be coming separately. We were welcomed by my grandma with kisses and hugs (she was about the only person I would kiss and hug voluntarily), and we were then ushered inside. She offered us tea and coffee, and she pointed at the tray with cookies and chocolates on it. "Help yourself," she said. When I reached out to grab a cookie, my mother glared at me.<p>

"Rox, don't you think you should help grandma first? You're kind of rude."

I just sighed, knowing it would be useless to go against her. Right now was not the time to fight, we were pretending to be happy.

I found grandma in the kitchen, and she nudged me. "How're you doing, kid?" she asked. I noticed she'd become very old the past few years. She wasn't that old in reality, but she looked ancient. Her heart was slowly failing, and the chance of her dying within a year was actually quite big. I shook my head, I couldn't think of that. Grandma was my light, she couldn't possibly die, not when I was still surrounded by darkness.

"Yeah I'm alright," I answered with a smile. Grandma knew something was up. I think she's always known I was lying when I said I was fine, but she never questioned me. On the one hand, I was happy about that. I didn't have to explain anything and I didn't have to face the painful feelings. But on the other hand, I wished she would. It sometimes felt like she just didn't ask because she didn't care enough. That was a ridiculous thought by the way, I knew for a fact that she favoured me. She was very subtle about it, but when we were all younger, she'd prefer to take me out to do things, and I'd rather be with her and grandpa than stay at home.

"Have you heard from your father?" grandma asked carefully. I was about to answer her, but the coffee just finished and I quickly grabbed some mugs.

I cleared my throat, "I'll just bring these to mom and Auron, yeah?", and made for the living room as fast as I could. I didn't feel like spending Christmas Eve with so many people, but I definitely wasn't prepared for difficult questions. And it wasn't even that difficult. It was a simple yes-or-no question, but I found I couldn't answer it. I could, but I wouldn't, because it would make me feel angry and sad. The answer would be a very definite 'no', and I didn't want to deal with that pain. My father, Cloud, had been absent from my life for a few years, five to be exact. He still kept in contact with Sora, occasionally, but I refused to talk to him. Something had happened once, and from that moment on I decided I was better off without him as a father. What hurt me though, was that he didn't do anything to fix it. It was like he just confirmed my thoughts, the thoughts that tell me he doesn't care about me. Maybe if mom and dad only had Sora, they'd still be together. They would live their happy lives, and I wouldn't have to be in the middle of it messing everything up.

I wouldn't have to be here at all.

* * *

><p>May nineteenth, Thursday. Today was my fathers birthday, and we'd agreed I'd come over to celebrate. Sora had been out of town at the time, and my mom and dad didn't really talk to each other much. I was excited to see him, I wanted to tell him about the job I'd landed a month earlier. I was so happy to finally have turned sixteen, I was finally allowed to work. I was even happier when I finally found a job, a few months later. I wanted to tell him about my awesome colleagues, and the things that had happened. Not that it was very exciting, but I just wanted to share it with him on his special day. I'd even went to the expensive bakery to buy him his favourite cake. I knew this afternoon would be great.<p>

Until I knocked on his door and he didn't open it. I knocked again. I tried to peek through the window, but the curtains were shut tight. He'd done it again. He'd decided he wasn't feeling good enough for company.

Dad would occasionally lock himself up in his home, when he didn't want to see anyone. The first time I was actually conscious of what was happening, I unlocked his back door with my set of keys. I stood in the middle of the living room and called for him. He ran downstairs, looked at me with this bewildered look on his face, and stayed silent.

"Are you okay?" I'd asked. He just nodded. "I, uh, jut wanted to see if you were okay. So, I'll be going then." I turned around and left.

The second time he did that, he'd learned from past experience, and he had put a key in the door on the inside, so that I couldn't unlock it. I understood the message, and didn't bother him until he felt he wanted to talk to me again. He'd always pretend nothing had happened, he'd act like we had just talked to each other a day before. That always bothered me, but I never called him out on it. He would probably lock himself up again.

But today, on his own birthday, was not the day I could deal with his shit. We had _agreed _I would come over, we were supposed to have a good day and talk and have fun. My dad really was a nice guy, a bit quiet, but we had the same kind of humour and I could talk to him about my mother, because he understood what I was talking about.

Apparently, though, he didn't feel the same about me. That's when I called Fang. I went to her place and we ate the cake. I didn't say much that day, but she knew and just stayed by my side. That was all I needed, until I started cussing my dad out. We had some fun with that.

That Thursday, May nineteenth, I decided I didn't want to talk to my father again. I felt like I didn't mean anything to him, so I stopped calling him. Usually he would call me, to let me know he was okay, but for some reason he had also stopped calling. I was so angry and upset, I didn't have time to miss him. I could live without him, I had Auron, who had proven himself a better father even though we didn't share the same blood. I could live without him.

That summer, was the summer I worked a lot. I remember going to work every day, so that I could make lots of money to spend on sea salt ice cream. I would turn seventeen a little bit after the holidays, and I was looking forward to going back to school. Overall, I'd had a pretty awesome summer.

One Sunday changed that. The supermarket I worked at only recently started to open its doors on Sundays, and _man, _was it busy! You'd think people would have the time to get their groceries any other day of the week, but nearly everyone in our neighbourhood found it necessary to go shopping on Sundays. I didn't mind. Time seemed to pass faster, and because it was a Sunday, I got paid double the amount of money I would normally get.

I was busy helping a customer, when suddenly I heard something. It was the sound of coins, when you have a handful and drop them on the counter. But this sounded a little bit different, it sounded like there were too many coins. I looked up. A man wearing a cap was pointing a kitchen knife at my colleague, while she emptied her desk into a plastic bag he was holding. I froze. I didn't know what to do. Shortly after, he ran away. The other customers had caught on as well, someone chased him down the street. My colleague slowly turned around.

"Roxas," she said calmly. I still don't know how she did that. "Call for the manager." I looked at her for a split second before quickly calling him. He called the police, we emptied the store, and waited.

The man got away, and we had to stay for questioning. It didn't take long, they just wanted to get our information and the policemen said they'd call us to make an appointment. We'd have to talk to them at the station the coming week to tell them what happened.

The next day, my colleague who had the knife pointed at her, found out she was pregnant.

The day after that, another colleague who already was pregnant, lost her baby.

I realized that so many shit can go down in such a short amount of time. If only the robbery had gone a little different, if I had been in her place, if the man had taken en pistol instead of a knife, _what if. _I could be run over by a bus tomorrow. I could suddenly find out I had some kind of tumour somewhere in my tiny body. I could _die_.

And I'd die without having seen my dad again. I couldn't, no, wouldn't accept that. So I called him. He didn't pick up his phone, of course. I had expected that. I kept calling him and calling him. I took the train to Destiny Islands, and sat in the park near his house. I kept calling. I kept hearing his voicemail. I left a message.  
>"Dad, it's Roxas. I've been trying to call you, but you haven't picked up, so..." I swallowed. What was I going to say? "I just wanted to let you know the supermarket got robbed today. I'm fine, so are my colleagues. Nothing major happened. I just need to talk to you. I'll be waiting in the park until ten. If you haven't called me back by then, I'll grab the last train home and I won't ever talk to you again."<p>

_ Beep._

* * *

><p>Christmas was <em>such <em>a drag. I don't think there was anything I hated more than Christmas – maybe my birthday – but this was by far the most terrible holiday in the existence of ever. I didn't even believe in God, or Jesus, or whatever. To me, it's all crap.

Of course my mother believes in God. She's not very extreme about it, but she does believe, an so Sora and I were forced to celebrate all these holidays. Living on campus was like heaven, because then I didn't have to deal with her God-shit.

Christmas Eve had gone by without much drama. The food was good, and the company mostly enjoyable. Mom and I somehow didn't fight the entire night, uncle Zack was being the clown of the family like usual, and we all listened to music and played games. At one point it had become apparent that it had been too late in the evening; my little sister Paine was becoming a pain (no pun intended). She was screaming, and running, and I could not deal with that. My mood was quickly spiralling down to where I almost lost control, but I managed to get to the car before everyone else and sit there in silence and wait.

The next day Sora and I were supposed to get up early. We were sharing a room, because mom had gotten so mad about 'the incident', that she'd put half of what was once in the attic in my old room. There was no way I was getting to my bed. It was okay though, Sora and I got to catch up. Instead of getting up early like mom had planned, we stayed in bed until about nine thirty, which was late for us. Paine came to tell us mom had made breakfast, and my stomach took that time to growl loudly. My sister giggled. I smiled.

We went down and took our respective places at the table. Mom had really outdone herself; there were cooked eggs, warm buns, and all other kinds of delicious breakfast foods. Being a poor college student, I hadn't had such a breakfast in a really long time.

"Looks great, mom!" I complimented her. This was her favourite holiday, I could stand to try and be civil. Especially when she tried so hard to make it a nice day for all of us.

"Roxas is right, Tifa," agreed Auron, "you've really outdone yourself."

Mom beamed up at us. "Thank you, guys!" There it was again, her gentle, happy smile. "Now, before we dig in – Sora put that back! - I wanted to ask you if there's anyone you would like to think of today."

All of us went silent, thinking hard. There were a few people I could think of, grandpa, Fang, Axel, but I stayed quiet. Mom looked at me expectantly. "Do you want to start, Rox?"

I looked up at the ceiling. I could say 'no' and we could have a fit, or I could just tell her a random name. But that would defeat her point, and if she somehow found out, we'd have a fit, too.

"I can't really think of anyone," I said slowly. Mom said nothing, thought for a minute, then nodded.

"That's okay, honey. What about you Auron?"

Honestly, I was surprised by how she handled the situation. But moreover, I was glad. When we were done thinking about our special people, we got the sign to _finally _eat. Just in time, too, because my stomach had started growling profusely. Paine started giggling again.

"Roxy, you need to eat, or your stomach will eat you!" She hastily grabbed one of the eggs and nearly threw it at me. Though she found my stomachs discomfort amusing, I could see she was a little bit concerned as well. For an eight year old, she had a lot of imagination. Which was a good thing, of course, but she believed in all the things she thought up.

"Careful there, squirt," I took the egg from her, before she could go and make an utter mess of everything.

"Eat it, Roxy! Eat it _now!_"

I couldn't help but snort. All of the amusement had disappeared, she was scared for my life. The others laughed. "Alright, alright," I said, peeling the shell off the egg. When I was done, I put the whole thing in my mouth. "Tha 'ny bedder?" I mumbled. Paine started laughing so hard, she cried.

After breakfast, we took the dog out for a walk. We got back about an hour later, and mom made us tea while Auron read a book on the couch, I played a game on my Nintendo DS, Sora texted his friends, and Paine played with her dolls.

That day, wasn't so bad.

The next day was what I feared. Sora had gone off. The bastard had planned a vacation and skipped out on visiting Auron's parents. Lucky. Going to Auron's parents wasn't always bad, just usually. When their daughter was there with her husband and their kids, it was less horrible, but still pretty bad. Auron's mom was a nice lady, or she pretended to be. She was always happy, always smiling, always so nice, while in reality we knew she wasn't nice at all. She was just playing nice because Auron had married mom, and because she wanted to see Paine. I think she may have liked Sora and I, but she definitely hated my mom.

Auron's father was not a nice man, but he didn't pretend to be anything else. He was very strict, and yelled at his wife a lot. At the children, too. He loved being in the spotlight, and he usually gave everyone expensive gifts, to show he could afford it. I don't remember ever being happy with anything he gave me.

With such mean parents, it's a wonder how nice and considerate Auron and his sister turned out to be.

Lunch and dinner were tedious. Somehow I survived, but I honestly don't know how I did it. I noticed how mom and I always created some kind of truce when we were there, we were like one against them. A wall, or something. Like they couldn't hurt us if we just stuck together.

Our wall was broken by Auron. It was late, he wanted Paine to go to bed. We needed to go. Mom and I pulled ourselves from our conversation, quickly drank our tea and got ready to go. Suddenly Auron yelled at Paine, grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her back. She screamed, cried, mom hurried over to them. They were in the hallway. The door was closed, but you could clearly hear them yelling at each other, while Paine just cried. I stood in the living room awkwardly, while Auron's father smiled approvingly, and his wife pretended she didn't hear anything.

The door opened. Auron looked at me with cold eyes. "We're going."

When we got home, mom immediately took Paine upstairs, and I called Pluto to take him for a walk. Auron stood in the kitchen, staring ahead. He looked tired, and I felt sorry for him for a minute, because I knew mom was furious at him. I left quickly, hoping to avoid their oncoming fight.

When I got back, I opened the front door to a lot of yelling.

"She's eight, Auron, _eight!_" mom yelled. "She doesn't have to learn how to tie her laces! Times are different, she only wears shoes without laces anyway. There'll be a time when she notices all of her friends can tie their own laces, and then she'll want to learn!"

"When that time comes, Tifa," Auron said angrily, but calmly, "she'll have to worry about learning other things. Tiny things, like tying your laces, are better to learn when you're young, so you can learn other things when you're older!"

The yelling went on. They'd noticed me by now; they were arguing in the kitchen and I was making tea. I said nothing.

"And I just _hate _how your father treats her!" mom shrieked, throwing her arms in the air in despair. "By forcing her to read and to write, he's only making her want to do it less!"

"Well at least someone is making her do it!" yelled Auron back.

My tea was done. I fled to my (Sora's, technically) room, and closed the door behind me. Their voices were muffled, but I could still hear them.

"Auron, are we really fighting about how to bring up our child? I have done this before." She did. When she and dad got divorced, Sora and I lived with her. To be honest, I think grandma and grandpa did more of the whole raising us, but considering my mom had to work two jobs and somehow keep the little sanity she had left, she did okay.

Auron huffed. "Sora and Roxas? Cause they've turned out so _fucking _great, haven't they?"

That's when I walked away from the door. I grabbed my laptop, refused to let the tears spill, and put on my headphones. I didn't want to hear any more. I didn't need to hear it. I felt like I was stabbed in the back. I thought I could trust Auron, I thought he loved me like his own kid. I always find myself trusting people, only to have that trust thrown back in my face.

What's wrong with me?

* * *

><p>I've tried to keep to British spelling, but if you notice any mistakes whatsoever, please don't hesitate to tell me so I can go and fix it.<p>

DiZ-claimer: I don't own jack shit.


	3. The Failed Suicide Club

**Chapter 3: The Failed Suicide Club**

_Step one: don't kill yourself._

Realizing you need help is possibly one of the hardest thing a person could go through. Not only do you come to the conclusion something's wrong with you, but you can't even fix it yourself. _You can't fix yourself. _

The worst thing is feeling the pain of not being able to feel happy. You stop enjoying the little things, things that used to bring a smile to your face. It happens very gradually, you barely even notice. Slowly, the warm feeling you used to get in your chest when you do something you love fades, smiling becomes a chore. Dragging your sorry ass out of bed every morning is the hardest thing you do all day. Talking to people, talking to your friends kills you, because you can't let them know how you feel. You feel angry at them, because they don't notice anything's wrong. You feel happy because they don't.

I knew I had to look for help. I get so lost in my thoughts sometimes, it's dangerous. My mind is a labyrinth and David Bowie walks the stairs of my brain trying to tempt me into submission. He tells me things I don't wish to believe, but the way he sings his words are enchanting, and I'm under his spell.

"You've run so long," he sings, "you've run so far." He sings about how cruel I am, about loving without a heartbeat. He sings to me, lullabies about killing myself.

That's when I wake up, and tell the make-believe David Bowie in my head he has no power over me. I don't want to kill myself, I just want to die. I'm so disappointed in myself, because I am such a coward. David Bowie is right. I've ran for long enough, far enough. I need to take the reigns in my own hands, direct the carriage that is my life into the direction I want it to go. It was no ones business if I directed it off a cliff, was it? "People have the right to decide whether they want to life or not," is what my philosophy teacher said.

But we don't live in a society that thinks like that. There was really only one way to deal with the emotional pain I was going through every single fucking day, and so I cut myself.

_Step two: don't do yourself in._

* * *

><p>At the start of the school year, my last year in college by the way, was when I met Axel for the first time. I have no idea how I missed him before; he was a tall, obnoxious redhead, way too arrogant for his own good. Everyone knew him, or knew about him, since he was evidently the most selfish, apparently the most handsome, and definitely the most wanted male around campus. He couldn't set foot out of his dorm without being stared at, whispered at, or pointed at, and Axel loved it. All of it.<p>

I hated Axel, but by some weird twist of fate, we had become friends.

It was two weeks after school had started, and I was visiting my favourite café, called Wonderland. To be honest, it was only my favourite because they sold the cheapest edible coffee, although I do admit they had a nice atmosphere going on. It was a cozy little place, it felt homey. The staff was also a big plus; everyone knew my order by heart. I was under the suspicion they showed their new colleagues a picture of me and told them to 'memorize this order with that face', although it's never been confirmed. It wouldn't have surprised me, though, the staff at Wonderland was crazy.

I was in between classes, so I sat myself down at a table and opted to do some studying. That would've been the _wise _thing to do, but I was twenty-one – twenty-two in two months – and it was time to be young and stupid, so instead I looked out the window, sipped my coffee, and thought about the people I saw. That is, until someone knocked into me and spilled their coffee on my books in the process.

"What the _fuck?!_" I yelled angrily before turning around. When I did, I collided with a solid chest, and I had to take a step back to take in the figure standing before me. The first thing I noticed was his bright red hair. That _had _to be dyed. Next, I saw two piercing green eyes (I swear he could look right through me), and underneath them were teardrop tattoos, only they were upside down. This guy was certainly the strangest person I'd ever seen. With maybe the exception of Demyx.

"Take it easy there, Blondie," the stranger smirked. "Wouldn't want to spill my coffee on you." He walked around me and sat down in the chair I was previously seated in. I gaped at him.

"Excuse me?" I would not take his shit. "First of all, _you _bumped into _me_," I angrily pointed at him and then to myself to, well, make my point. "Secondly, I was sitting there-"

"_-was," _he interrupted. He was still smirking, that son of a bitch.

"And lastly," I ignored him, still seething, when I really noticed how drenched my books were. It was pretty bad, I'd be extremely lucky if the pages wouldn't all stick together. "You fucking dick! Do you have any idea how expensive these were?!"

The redhead shrugged. "That would be your problem, would it not?" He took a sip of his coffee, glancing out of the window as if this was just any normal conversation, as if my anger didn't affect him at all. It probably didn't; he was a tall ass motherfucker and I was a tiny pipsqueak.

I don't know what happened next, call it a brain malfunction, but as I grabbed my books and made to leave, I muttered: "You totally owe me a coffee, fucking idiot."

"I'll hold you to that!" he yelled just as I left the café, and I could faintly hear him chuckle.

* * *

><p><em>Step three: don't play with knives.<em>

"Hey Rox?" Fang broke our comfortable silence. We were sitting in the library, studying for some test we had coming up. To be honest, I was not paying any attention to what the hell I was reading. The page count told me I had read ten pages, but I couldn't remember what it was about. I looked up at her.

"What's up?"

"Do you remember that talk we had?" she whispered. "You know. The talk that one time about the thingy."

The thing about Fang and I was, was that we could communicate with each other while we actually said utter crap. She would say 'blah', and I would know what she meant. I think, that if soulmates exist, Fang and I were just that. Only in friendship form. There was a time when I would've liked to be romantic soulmates, but she was hopelessly in love with a girl named Lightning. That, and I was totally the wrong gender. That was a few years ago though, and now I was completely content with being her soulmate-friend. Sometimes I didn't even realize how well she knew me, until she'd say something I hadn't told her, but she just..._ knew. _

"The talk a few months ago about me harming myself?" I asked to verify. I'd been an idiot. We were drunk, and when I get drunk I tell people things. First I'd been a dickface and told her about me wanting to die, then at another party I told her about cutting myself. Jesus, I'm a fuck up. She wasn't supposed to know.

"Yeah," she shifted in her seat. I could tell she didn't like talking about it. "Do you... You know..."

"Still do it?" I finished for her. She nodded. "No," I shook my head. "I haven't done it in a long time."

"Why not?" she asked. I could see the relief and curiosity in her eyes.

I snorted. "What, would you rather have me start mutilating myself again?"

"Jesus Roxas," she nearly yelled, which earned her several 'shh!'s' from fellow students. I chuckled. "It's not funny to say those kinds of things, Roxas." She frowned, and I did too. When she used my full name, it meant business.

"Sorry."

We were quiet for a few minutes. At first, I thought she'd gone back to studying, until: "So, why not?"

I sighed. "Well," I started, leaning back a bit, and looked at the ceiling to avoid her gaze. It was kind of intense. "I, uh, realized I was being a dick, and that cutting myself wouldn't actually help me feel better in the long run. I mean, sure, the rush was kinda nice, and not having to feel the pain in here-" I placed a hand on my chest "-for only just a little while, was what made me do it, but in the end... in the end it wouldn't have been worth it."

Fang looked at me for the longest time, parted her lips to speak, decided against it and closed them again. I was getting nervous, people usually didn't stare at me like that. Or stared at me in general.

"Rox, are you sure you want to die?"

I was quite flabbergasted.

"Because," she continued, "to me it sounds like you want to live."

I looked down, at the hands I had placed in my lap. Did I really want to die? I always thought so. But did I really? This was too much, too depressing to think of right now. Fang got up and sat back down on the chair next to mine. She grabbed my hand and squeezed. When I looked up at her, she smiled at me gently. This was totally out of line, but she was _hot_.

"It's okay Roxy, you don't have to figure it out now. Just... think about it?"

"Yeah," I smiled back. "I will."

* * *

><p>Two days after that fucking redhead ruined my books, it was a Saturday. I was down at the laundromat, cause god knew there would be empty washing machines available, and more importantly, no line. It was nice the school provided the dorms with those devices, but they could have figured three would not be enough. Thankfully, the laundromat wasn't expensive. I was sitting there, waiting until I could put my next load in, reading. It was about eleven in the morning, not many people were there. I sighed contently, enjoying the peace and quiet. If only I knew it was about to be disturbed.<p>

"American Gods by Neil Gaiman, eh?" Jesus fucking christ, I mean really. Who had such a fucking obnoxious voice?

I put the book down, only to reveal the tall redhead from before. The sight of him made me want to sigh in irritation, which of course I did. "What are _you _doing here?" I asked bitterly. "Ruining my books wasn't good enough? You're here for more? Why not throw some of that obviously dyed red hair in with my white shirts, why don't you?"

The redhead smirked, and he had this glint in his eyes. Was he enjoying this? "Think whatever the hell you want, kid, but I didn't come here for you. Although you _did _say I owed you a coffee..." He stared at the styrofoam cup in his hands, which I hadn't noticed before. "Do you like vanilla lattes?"

I blinked, surprised at his tone. He didn't sound playful anymore, his eyebrows were knit together as if he was thinking hard. "Uh, yeah I guess."

"Ugh," he sighed dramatically, before handing me the cup. "Here, take it quickly, before I change my mind."

I took the cup, a smile tugging at my lips.

_Step four: don't trust anyone._

"Wait," I said, just before I took a sip. "You... haven't rigged it, have you?" I looked at him suspiciously, looking for a sign, any sign.

But he just rolled his eyes and took a seat next to me, grabbed the cup and took a sip himself, before handing it back.

"No," he said matter-of-factly, "now drink it, really. Before I change my mind. Got it memorized?"

I nearly spat out the coffee.

"_Got it memorized?" _I mimicked. "What the fuck is up with that?"

"It's my awesome catchphrase, Blondie, it's what people know me by! Without it, I'd be nothing!" He threw his hands in the air. "Nothing!" he exclaimed dramatically. He used his hands a lot when he talked. It was kinda distracting, but it fit him somehow.

"You're a drama queen, you know that right?"

"You look much nicer without that angry frown, you know _that, _right?" he retorted.

I shrugged. "Fair enough." Another sip. I usually didn't really drink vanilla lattes, too sweet for my tastes, but somehow it wasn't so bad. "Thanks."

"Huh?"

"Jesus," I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Pfft, don't even mention it Blondie. I _did _spill a little bit of coffee on your books after all. This was _least _I could do."

I nearly spit out my coffee again, this time not in amusement but in anger. "A little bit? A little bit?! Do you know how much trouble I had to go through to try to get the pages to not stick together like fucking glue?" I could feel the anger coursing through my veins, and only then I realized I might have an anger-management problem. Yeah, I should get that checked out. So instead of yelling at him some more, I sat calmly, looking at my clothes in the washing machine, muttering to myself. "Fucking fake redhead," I mumbled.

Said redhead coughed. "I will have you know," and I just _knew _this was going to be fucking stupid, "that my hair, my beautiful red locks of awesome-"

"-yeah right," I snorted,

"-are very, completely real!" he finished proudly, as if I hadn't interrupted him. I shouldn't have bothered anyway, he was only interested in hearing his own fucking voice.

"Sure, sure," I waved my hand. "Say that a few more times, maybe you'll even believe it yourself."

"Blondie, I'm shocked. I would never lie to you!"

"Right," I rolled my eyes. It was then, I realized I was talking to a complete stranger who could possibly kidnap me and change my life forever. "Who are you anyway?"

He looked at me. And he looked at me. Then he looked some more. He did a double take. "You don't know who I am?"

"No," I shook my head, "no not really."

"But, you go to Radiant Garden University, yes?" Still, he looked so surprised. What, was he a celebrity or something?

"Um, last time I checked, yeah." I scratched the back of my neck.

"And you _haven't _even heard of _me?_" the redhead exclaimed. I was getting annoyed.

"We have established this."

The redhead blinked, then looked at (what I assume) the washing machine which contained his dirty laundry. "I just can't believe there are people at school who don't know who I am..." he muttered.

I was officially getting fed up. "Look dude, I don't get why it's a big deal. Who are you? Maybe I've heard of you but just didn't know what you looked like. Would that help you keep your fantasy world together?" Was I being too harsh? I thought he could handle it.

"The name's Axel," he said when he turned to me. "Axel Hayes."

What was so special about- oh. Realization hit me like a derailed train. Wasn't the Hayes kid the one who organized all those parties, and had slept with nearly everyone on campus? Why would he be proud of that? When I asked him, he laughed it off.

"Yeah, I'm known mostly for my infamous parties, but other than that my great personality and dashing looks have earned me a great deal of popularity. I mean," he gestured at his face, "who _doesn't _like this angelic face, right? Obviously I'm the bomb."

I just lifted my left eyebrow (I'd lift my right one instead, but I still hadn't figured out how to move that one separately...). This guy was so full of himself, it had to be unhealthy.

"What about... the rest?" I asked carefully, not sure if I wanted to know. Knowing Axel, which I really didn't but still, he would tell me all the... glorious... details. I did not need that.

Surprisingly though, he just rolled his eyes. "You know, if people want to spread rumours, I'm not going to stop them. Let the people talk, who fucking cares? I know a lot of people because of it, which is good for my ego-"

"-as if you needed the boost-"

"-and I know they're not real friends, but," he shrugged carelessly. "Fuck it. You only live once!"

"You're probably going to regret all of this shit later, when you're old and near death."

"Just because everyone has died so far, Roxy, doesn't mean I will. Proof of my death hasn't been presented yet," he wiggled his index finger at me, a playful smirk playing on his lips. I was about to retort, when a 'ding' sounded, and Axel got up from his chair.

"That would be my cue, Blondie," he said while he packed his fresh clothes into a bag. "See you around," he saluted.

_That was abrupt, _I thought, and when I looked over to my clothes, I noticed they'd been sitting there for about fifteen minutes, while I had completely forgotten about them. If Axel was going to be a frequent factor in my life, I wasn't sure I would survive it. I needed to consult with Fang.

_Step five: stay alive._

* * *

><p><em>Step six: get a quick fix.<em>

It was New Years, and it was bound to be a party never to be forgotten, although it was preferred if you didn't remember any of it the next morning. Only then the party would've been a real party.

I'd known Axel for about three months now, and somehow he fit right in with Fang and I. They took an immediate liking to each other, so I had to suck it up and tolerate the annoying redhead. Actually, he wasn't so bad. He, like Fang, got me to get out of my shell of depressed-ness, only he didn't know what was going on, which made me feel free around him. I didn't have to worry about saying the wrong things, I didn't have to think about how I'd hurt him. Because with Axel, it just didn't matter. I felt we had become really good friends in such a short period of time, and I was actually glad I'd met him. And those rumours? Mostly they were just rumours, although Axel _did _like to get around, like any twenty-three year old guy with a good libido.

Axel was actually the one who planned the party (no surprises there), but he kept it small. It was just me, Fang, Lightning (they had finally hooked up, thank god), Lightning's sister Serah and her boyfriend Snow, and Axel himself. He'd told me to invite anyone I wanted over, but I couldn't really think of anyone. I would've invited Sora, but drinking so much alcohol until you can't even remember your own name is kinda awkward to do with your older brother. By chance I'd gotten a text from Demyx. His friend had unexpectedly cancelled their plans, so I figured he could come to Axel's place. The redhead, of course, didn't mind.

We all agreed we had but only one goal that evening: drink so much booze, smoke so much weed, that we wouldn't be able to remember a thing. We started out slow, just a few beers. All of us were having a good time, just talking and having fun. When twelve o'clock neared, we all went outside to watch the fireworks, and we wished each other a happy new year. The two couples kissed each other, of course, while Demyx, Axel and I high-fived each other with these stupid grins on our faces. When the fireworks were mostly over, and we were shivering from the cold, we went back inside and opened up the champagne. How many bottles did we finish? Was it two?

"Let's party until six in the fucking morning!" Demyx laughed.

"We'll hold you to that!" Axel and I said at the same time.

No, three bottles of champagne, but I'm pretty sure us three bachelors got the most of it. Kind of sad, really.

"Are you guys up for a drinking game?" called Snow, a bottle of tequila in one hand, a pair of dice in the other. Everyone got excited, and gathered at Axel's dining table. Snow explained the rules: "Here's how it works; when it's your turn, you have three chances to throw the dice, yeah?" Everyone nodded. "Right, when you throw a five and a four, that means you have fifty-four points. That's decent, but what you're really aiming for, is a one and a two. We'll call that the Joker, and that means the person who loses has to drink _double _the amount of shots!"

"Wait, wait," Demyx frowned confusedly. "So, if I were to throw a four and a three, that'd be forty-three, and if two people were to throw a Joker, I'd have to, uh..."

"You'd have to drink four shots, Dem," I patted him on his back. Demyx cringed.

"Four shots of tequila... That's intense..."

Snow laughed. "Well, if you do end up with a three and a four, and it was your first try, it's not that bad. You have two more tries. The last time you throw though, is the one that counts." He collected the dice, and took the shot glass Axel handed him with a smile. "Let's begin, shall we?" he said when he filled the glass.

"I don't have any lemons though," Axel said, "I doubt we could do with only salt."

"We'll just drink it like this, it'll be fine," I was getting impatient. I liked drinking shots, I liked playing games. This was the best New Years ever, for sure.

We got started. When half the bottle was finished, Demyx was half laying on the ground, but still participating. He'd had a stroke of bad luck, and had to drink a lot. One of the rounds, everyone threw a Joker, except for Demyx. That was kinda sad. I drank half his shots. That was nice. This was exactly what I needed. Not thinking about death and destruction, but just letting go. This was the fix I needed.

By the end of the game, when the bottle was empty, it was around two in the morning and Demyx laid passed out in the bathroom. We were going to give him hell for not staying up until six in the morning later, for sure. I was dubbed 'Roxas with the Joker-spirit', cause I always took my three turns to try and throw a Joker, and took my shots like man when it didn't work out. Tequila was my thing, I found out. It tasted really nice.

"Hey Rox," someone whispered in my ear. I turned around, albeit clumsily. I could definitely feel the alcohol coursing through my body. I giggled. Everything was so pretty!

"Hey Axel!" I threw my arms around his neck to hug him. It was slightly awkward; he hadn't been prepared and our difference in height was not helping. I quickly let go. "What's up?"

"Wanna come outside? I've got something I want to share with you."

"Yeah alright," I nodded. "I'll grab our coats."

As I walked through the living room – crawled? No, I was pretty sure I was still on my feet. - I saw Fang and Lightning cuddling on the cough, Snow was nowhere to be seen, and Serah was complaining loudly about Snow's mother. Lighting looked to be asleep, and Fang pretended to look like she was listening intently, but she clearly wasn't. I laughed at her misfortune. I'd be hearing about this tomorrow. Or, later today, as the case may be.

I stepped outside with our coats. Axel was already sitting on one of the three chairs on his tiny balcony, and he smiled when I gave him his. "Thanks."

"No worries," I answered. "What was it that you wanted to share with me?"

Axel pulled a joint out from his pocket. I grinned.

"You're officially the best friend I've ever had," I beamed.

He snorted. "Don't let Fang hear you."

I coughed. "I mean, you're the worst friend I've ever had. You have such a bad influence on me," I 'corrected' myself.

"Do you still want a hit?" he teased.

"I'll just keep quiet and enjoy the poison you feed me."

"Atta boy," Axel mumbled when I took a drag. Drinking was nice, but smoking weed was the fucking _best_. You get this lightheaded feeling, like you can fly. You know you can't, but it feels like you're floating or something. It was fucking fantastic.

"Rox," Axel said, and I was taken aback by his serious tone. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought I'd sobered up a little from hearing it, but I did know better. I wasn't going to be sober for days.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Why... Why do you look so sad all the time?" my redheaded friend whispered. I said nothing. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to know I was a sad person. Axel and I were friends, because he made me forget I was sad, because he was a distraction. Why did he have to go mess it up?

The joint dangled between my fingers, forgotten, my mind clear. Should I tell him the truth? Could I hurt a friend like that for the second time?

"I-" I started, but couldn't find the words. Axel pulled me in half a hug. I didn't realize until that moment, how much I just needed a fucking hug. I was just too stubborn to ever ask for one.

"Sometimes you're acting all happy, and when you think I'm not looking you get this sad, distant look in your eyes. Kind of empty." He sounded worried. God, I hated that.

"I just..." I started again. "I just don't know how to deal with stuff."

"What stuff?" Axel pressed.

"My feelings?" it came out like a question. Maybe it was. I thought about what Fang asked me earlier.

"_Are you sure you want to die? Because to me it sounds like you want to live."_

Axel looked at me with wide eyes. Shit. Did I say it out loud? Fuck, I should not be having this conversation while intoxicated.

"What?" he whispered. The hurt in his eyes hurt me. God I just wanted it to fucking _stop_.

"I want to die," I blurted out. Best to just tell him the truth now. "I am so fucking sad, all the time, and I'm fucking tired of it. I don't want to feel sad anymore, but whatever I do, it won't get any better. It's like I'm stuck in quicksand, and the more I struggle to get out, the more it devours me." I took a deep breath. "I'd rather just die. Because if I died, I wouldn't have to feel like this anymore."

"Roxas," Axel breathed, "what about your family?"

"No one would miss me," I scoffed.

"That's not true!" Axel grabbed my shoulders, forced me to look him in the eyes. "I would," he said more calmly. "And I'm sure Fang would, too."

"Yeah," I whispered. I could feel the lump in my throat. I did not want to cry, it was unmanly. Who was I kidding though? Just giving up on life was about the most unmanly thing a man could do, wasn't it?

"You want to know something?"

I looked up at Axel again, curious. Axel cracked half a smile.

"Two years ago," the redhead said. "Something happened, and I couldn't deal with it. I overdosed on fucking bleach and stuff. I've been on medication ever since." He smiled bitterly. "So, welcome to the failed suicide club." Axel was as messed up as I was.

I swallowed. I wasn't prepared for this. "Does it get better?" I asked silently. Axel shrugged.

"You learn how to cope. I live by a code, which helps."

"What's the code?"

"Seven steps. Step one," Axel counted on his fingers, "don't kill yourself. Step two, don't do yourself in-"

"-isn't that the same thing?" I interrupted.

Axel smirked. I was glad to see he was still able to, despite the heavy subject. "It's nice to remind yourself."

I kept silent.

"Step thee, don't play with knives. Step four, don't trust anyone," I frowned at that, "step five, stay alive, and step six, get a quick fix."

We were silent for a little bit. Didn't he say seven though?

"Didn't you say seven steps?"

"Yeah. It's the only one I haven't fulfilled yet." He stared at the night sky.

"What is it?" I asked, following his gaze.

"Step seven: find love."

The clock turned from 05:59 to 06:00. We'd made it.

* * *

><p>I've tried to keep to British spelling, but if you notice any mistakes whatsoever, please don't hesitate to tell me so I can go and fix it.<p>

DiZ-claimer: I don't own jack shit.

**You know what? It's fucking 1:54AM over where I live. If there are errors, I'm sorry. I'll try to get them fixed later today. When I've had some sleep and don't feel like a zombie. Ugh. **


	4. I've Got My Ways On Saturdays

**Chapter 4: I've Got My Ways On Saturdays **

A first kiss is supposed to be a magical experience. Everything is supposed to fall into place, the puzzle finally completed. First kisses are supposed to make you feel like you can end every war, somehow achieve world peace, because you are so madly in love with this person and nothing could ever be wrong when you – finally! - kiss them for the first time.

My first kiss was nothing like that. It was a rather comical experience, if not a bit weird. Whatever it was, it was nothing like it was _supposed _to be. I was eighteen at the time, and I was a bit late to the party, as the say. I didn't mind it though. It wasn't like I was waiting for this perfect person to show up (because really I think I'd be waiting _forever_), but I had never really gotten myself into a situation where I would kiss someone. I'd been in love before, but it had always been one-sided.

On a faithful night sometime during spring, my colleagues had invited me to go out. We'd done it before; we'd play a game of pool, drink a few beers, and then we'd leave, always making sure the guys got the ladies back home. We had a good thing going. Until we thought it would be a good idea to drink a few more beers, and then go to another café to do some shots of tequila. Admittedly, it was one of the best nights of my life, and now that I think about it, tequila has done some great things for me. At one point the waiter came to our table, after we'd ordered another round of shots, to collect our glasses because we'd used up all of them and they needed to quickly wash them to get us new shots. The bill was gigantic. I think we spent almost two-hundred munny on tequila that night, with about eight of us.

We didn't stop there. Goddammit, we were going to fucking party and have a good time. We went to another café (one of my favourites, for entirely different reasons), and did some other shots. It was sweet, and actually kinda gross, but I was too drunk to care at that moment. I just wanted to consume more alcohol. I don't really remember much of what happened after that. I think we went dancing at a club for a little bit, and the next thing I know is us cycling home, bringing home some of the girls. My house was actually the second to last stop, and one of my guy colleagues had to cycle the last bit alone. I remember being really scared. I was scared, because my mom absolutely disapproved of me drinking alcohol. I'd never come home drunk before, never really drank before either. It really was a night of first-times.

When we arrived at my place, the lights were still on. I was so, so scared my mother would be sitting on the couch, waiting for me to come home. I looked through the window to see if she was there. Luckily, she wasn't. I turned around to tell my colleague (his name was Tidus, by the way) that I wasn't going to be in any trouble, and suddenly we were kissing. I remember not having a freaking clue as to what the hell I was doing, but it felt kinda good so I just kept doing it. Before I knew it, I woke up the next morning, confused and very much hungover. Did that really happen? I decided to text him. I was being a bit vague about it, asking him something like: _Dude, do you have any idea what happened last night?_

By then I was sure it had happened. Tidus and I had kissed, and goddammit that was fucking awkward. I still had to work with the guy. When he texted me back, I was somewhat relieved. _I don't remember anything after the tequila_, it read. I never told him what did happen.

Until we went drinking again. We were at another colleagues place, and we'd attempted to make the sweet, gross substance from before ourselves. I think we succeeded, I mean it was intensely sweet, but we probably put more alcohol in there than we should have. We'd gotten ourselves pretty drunk, and I was sitting in the living room with Tidus and Wakka. I think the others went outside to smoke a few cigarettes or something, I honestly don't know, but they weren't there. I don't even remember what we were talking about, but the subject of kissing came up and I just kinda told them.

Wakka went silent, burst out laughing, then looked at us, confused but amused. "No way! You two kissed?!"

Tidus was about as confused as Wakka was, and even more embarrassed than me. "I'm sorry I couldn't remember," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we... I mean, do you just want to forget about it?"

"Yes please," I snorted. I wasn't hurt, nor was I disappointed. I knew it hadn't meant anything, and that it never would. Tidus was a really good guy, but that was all there was to it.

Somehow, we ended up kissing again that night.

* * *

><p>The first time I smoked weed, was a terrible experience. I had a girlfriend back then (my first, and only girlfriend by the way), who smoked a lot of pot. At first she was reluctant to let me try it; she refused to let me come with her when she went out to buy some, but after a while I'd convinced her that I really, really wanted to see what it was like.<p>

We were at her place, as we usually were. She lived with a few of her friends, and that was definitely better than being at home with my mom, Auron and Paine. I was eighteen, about a month after the whole kissing a colleague incident, and still lived at home. Being home and 'doing things' was definitely not an option.

Naminé and I were sitting in her room, watching a movie, when one of her housemates, Selphie, joined us. I hated her. Maybe not hated, because she could be a nice person, but I strongly disliked her. Selphie was a smart girl, smarter than most people, and she knew it. She would often let everyone know how much better she was than everyone else, and she was unnecessarily mean. She was nice enough to me, mainly because Naminé was about the only person who could stomach Selphie because she rivalled Selphie's intelligence. I always felt so dumb when I hung out with them. When they were together, they kind of got lost in their own little world where everything they said was like fucking Chinese to me. They never took the time to explain what they were talking about. I liked Naminé's other super smart friend, Rinoa better. When she noticed I didn't understand what they were talking about, she would at least try to involve me in the conversation. She was a good person.

When Selphie had joined us, Naminé started to build a joint. They were talking about something, and I was just watching Naminé's skilled hands, kind of in awe at how easily it seemed to come to her. It came with practise, I guessed. When she was done, she and Selphie took a few hits before she offered me the joint. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with the thing, I had never even smoked a normal cigarette before. Selphie laughed at me, but Naminé calmly explained how I should take a hit. Inhale but make sure to inhale with oxygen. Then hold your breath for a bit before releasing, and proceed to enjoy the lightheaded feeling. I didn't really get a nice, lightheaded feeling at all. I just felt sleepy and I actually just went to bed while Naminé and Selphie continued to watch the movie. It was one of the best nights of sleep I had ever had.

* * *

><p>The second time I got home drunk, I wasn't so lucky. My mother was sitting on the couch, and all I could think was: fuck. It was like a mantra stuck in my head, and I prayed she would magically disappear while I went to use the bathroom. When I got out, she was standing in the doorway, a look of utter disgust on her face.<p>

"You're drunk, aren't you?" she nearly spat. I just looked at her, her frown deepened, and everything was just so funny. I burst out laughing.

"Yes," I managed to say in between laughs.

"You're worthless," she said, her voice void of emotion. Had I been sober, that would've hurt, but I wasn't sober so I didn't care. I laughed some more.

"Yeah yeah. Goodnight!" I went upstairs and let sleep take ahold of me.

* * *

><p>Smoking pot for the second time, was a delightful experience. I was with Fang, at her tiny little apartment. We'd been having a great evening, with good food and a few beers. We'd just gotten back from a party a few cities away, and decided to medicate ourselves to relax a little. We were just hanging, smoking, having a good time.<p>

Then the munchies kicked in. There were a few boxes of cornetto's in the freezer, and I think we ate a whole pack, each. Food is the most delicious and the most appreciated when you have the munchies, that's for damn sure.

* * *

><p>Last summer, Fang and Lightning planned a day out in Destiny Islands. We were going to chill on the beach, and at night we would sit around a campfire and we would drink until we couldn't get up anymore. Snow and I joined them. We brought lots of wine, and a few beers, and we laughed about everything because we were young and no one was going to hurt us.<p>

Empty bottles of wine littered, we shared the beers with the four of us. At one point Lightning and I had to use the bathroom very badly, and some little café was still open. It was only about one in the morning. When we got back, Fang and Snow were sitting there, suspiciously silent.

"What's going on?" Lightning asked.

Our friends couldn't keep their pokerfaces and each broke out in a grin. Snow snorted.

"N-nothing!" he sang.

"Have you guys been smoking weed?" I wondered as I sat back down and took a swig.

"Ha!" Fang laughed, "of course not! We wouldn't smoke pot without you two lovely ladies," she wiggled her eyebrows. I sighed, but couldn't keep a tiny (or big, hell I was drunk) smile off my face.

"You guys have definitely been smoking weed. I can smell it."

"Well it's not like we, uh, smoked it all..." Snow coughed nervously.

"What?!" Lighting exclaimed. "You smoked _all _of the weed? Why didn't you guys leave us anything?! Roxas and I wanted to smoke pot, didn't we Rox?" she looked at me for confirmation, which I was happy to give.

"I can't believe you guys," I said, making sure the disappointment was heard.

It worked.

"Wait, wait, wait," Fang rummaged through her bag. "There might be some left. You and Light can have all of it, swear."

Lightning and I shared a secret grin.

The drinking and smoking continued, until I had to relieve myself yet again. The café had closed – what time was it anyway? - so we had to improvise. There was one part of the beach that was pretty secluded, and it was very dark. You couldn't see if anyone was standing there from the campfire, so that was our new place to take a piss. Fang and Lightning went first, leaning on each other and laughing hysterically when they came back. Snow took to pissing in the sea, but I didn't. As I was doing my thing, I looked down casually, and I could swear my piss was glowing. Not just glowing, but it was this pretty blue colour. I knew it wasn't real, I knew my brains were just making up images, but it was very pretty to look at.

I rejoined my friends at the campfire. We had finished all the wine, all the beer, all the marijuana. Snow took off his pants and ran into the see. Lighting followed him, but she was wearing shorts so she didn't have to take them off. Fang and I made the most ridiculous photo's.

Thinking back on it, that evening was probably one of my happiest.

* * *

><p>The next day, we got word of a plain crash. It was worldwide news. Some assholes had launched a rocket into a passenger airplane. No one had survived.<p>

We watched the news all day, and thought of conspiracy theories.

"It probably was North-Korea all along," I casually mentioned.

That evening, we watched a documentary about North-Korea. At the end, all four of us had lost faith in humanity.

* * *

><p><span>DiZ-claimer: I don't own jack shit.<span>


	5. Unloveable (Don't Love Me)

**Chapter 5: Unloveable (Don't Love Me)**

Some days are lazy days. You lounge around in your bed all day, only getting out to get something to eat or make a fresh cup of coffee. Today was such a day. I paused the episode of White Collar I was currently watching, and I made my way down the stairs, empty cup in hand. It was getting dark, and I was home alone. I was at mom's and Auron's place because of the holidays. The holidays weren't usually bad, because I got free food, and I got to catch up on my dirty laundry. Auron never really had time off when I did, so I didn't get to see him much. Mom was usually out doing things with Paine, so I really did have some time to myself.

I went about my business; warmed some milk in the microwave, poured hot coffee in the cup after the device had beeped. I glanced at the dirty dishes. Mom would be happy if I did them. But I sighed, grabbed my cup and went back upstairs.

Sometimes, at moments you least expect it, you suddenly realize things. Things you've never realized before, or refused to acknowledge. When I sat back in bed, underneath my warm covers, I had such a moment. Today I realized I never should have been born. I know, because my parents never meant to have me. I was just birthday sex (I did the math) and my mom and dad just happened to live together at the time. I wasn't a 'product of love'. Both of them had to quit their studies because they were having me. I basically ruined their lives.

Then, when my mother was giving birth to me, I wouldn't pop out. The nurse was late, but when she got to my parents' flat she immediately saw what was wrong: the birth cord was all twisted around my neck. Not once, not twice, but three times. By pushing me out, my mother would kill me. There was only one solution; they had to go to the hospital. _Pronto._

The elevator was broken. They had to walk all the way downstairs, and then quickly drove to the nearest hospital. I don't know how this ever could've happened, but they were sent away, for some reason I don't know. The second hospital did take mom and I in, and we were immediately set up with a doctor who literally pulled me out, cut the cord and saved my life.

All of this never should've happened. I shouldn't have been born. Realizing this makes feeling like I don't have a purpose easier; it's because I never should have been here in the first place.

* * *

><p>"You hurt me so much," mom said a few months back. She'd had a glass of wine or two, and she tended to use that as an excuse to act drunk. She wasn't fooling me, I knew she was pretending.<p>

"What do you mean?"

"You hurt me so, _so much_," she continued, "when you were born, I mean. I hated you for it."

I stared ahead, didn't know what to say. "Oh. Well, sorry."

"Thank you."

I continued drying the dishes, while she washed them. Emotions rushed through me like a derailed train. I didn't know what to feel or what to think. I knew my relationship with my mother was stained, to say the least, but to actually hear her say that she hated me, hurt. I knew she did, but her confession made it so much more real.

"I love you." There really wasn't anything worse she could've said to break the silence. It took everything to not stop drying the dishes and run upstairs, to hide in my room.

"Oh," was all I said.

"I really do, Roxas," mom said, her voice broke. "I know you don't feel the same. It hurts when you don't return my hugs, you know."

Oh, that's rich. Like she ever taught me how to lovingly hug someone.

"I just don't know how to deal with affection, mom."

"I know, I know. And I know it's my fault, but I'd just wish you would love me, Rox. That's all I want. I just want you to love me in return, so we can be happy."

"Hm."

Mom sighed in desperation. "C'mon Roxas, I just-"

"-Tifa, give it a rest. I don't want you guys to break into a fight, yeah?" I've never been so thankful mom married Auron. I sent him a look that clearly said 'thank you', and he just smiled at me.

"Why don't you go upstairs Rox, you had something you need to finish for school right? I'll finish up for you tonight."

I nodded and made my way upstairs, but overheard my mom talking to Auron. I couldn't help myself, and listened.

"I don't know what to do with him, Auron," mom cried.

"Just give it time. You guys have been through a lot, I just think Roxas isn't ready to forgive and forget."

"Do you... Do you think he ever will?"

Silence stretched out like too little butter on a slice of bread, and the anticipation was killing me. I knew the answer, and I was sure Auron knew, too. He was a smart man.

"I don't know," he said, probably to spare my mother the hurt of hearing the truth, which would be an indefinite 'no'.

I could not forgive and forget, for what my mother and I had been through, was too much to pretend like it never happened.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'll be waiting in the park until ten. If you haven't called me back by then, I'll grab the last train home and I won't ever talk to you again."<em>

_Beep._

The digital clock on my mobile device told me it was 9.58 when my dad called me back. I wasn't surprised he waited until the last possible moment to call me, though I must admit I was surprised he bothered to call me at all. I honestly thought – though I didn't hope – that my dad and I were through. I knew I was being harsh, I knew I was setting him up for an ultimatum which wasn't a fair thing to do, but I need him to grow up. I needed him to be a dad, and I needed him to know I meant business, that I wouldn't take his shit anymore. A son is not something you throw around and hold close when you feel like it, a son is for forever.

I accepted the call.

"Hey," I answered. Silence. Then, groggily;

"Hi. I just woke up and got your message."

I scoffed. "Yeah, sure. We need to talk, dad."

Dad sighed. "Yeah. Yeah I kinda got that from your message." He sighed again, and I could picture him scratching the back of his neck absent mindedly. That's what I did when I wasn't sure what to do, or when I felt awkward. We were so much alike, dad and I, it was scary. Not only did we look the same, but we shared the same sense of humour. That's what I always loved most about dad. We could sit around making horrible jokes all day, when he was feeling like it. That's what I missed the most, as well.

"I, uh, I'm available tomorrow, around three. That work for you?"

"Yeah, that works out great for me."

"Okay." He sounded relieved.

"Will you," I began, but wasn't sure if I should continue. It was going to be a low blow, but I couldn't stop myself. "Will you open the door for me, or should I use brute force?"

Had the circumstances been different, he would've chuckled, I'm sure. Instead, he gasped a little in surprise and maybe – hopefully, however bad that may sound – guilt.

"Y-yeah," he stammered. "I'll open the door."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Seven years ago, nearing the end of December, is the day I can't forget. There have been more days in my life that I can't seem to lock away into the depths of my mind, but that one faithful day in December stands out the most. I had just turned fifteen two months prior. Grandpa had died two years before that, and my family still mourned. It was getting easier, but the pain was still there. I didn't really realize it at the time, but grandma really did pull herself together. She resorted to drinking a lot (too much) of whisky, shortly after grandpa died. Slowly but steadily, she started to drink less and less, until only the recreational drink was left.<p>

That December seven years ago, was when something happened, something so horrific, so painful, and dare I say _traumatizing _that I can't ever forgive the person responsible. My mother.

Mom, Auron and Paine went to some far away city (a four hour drive) to visit Auron's family. I wasn't coming with them because I had school, and Paine was only one year old, although her second birthday was coming up. I was to stay with grandma for about a week, and Sora went to stay with dad, if I remember correctly. The day they were supposed to come back was Paine's birthday. Grandma and I went out of our way to buy my little sister a cake and put up some birthday decorations. She would love that, we thought. Mom called us to let us know they'd be back around four, so we waited.

At nine 'o clock in the evening, we had gotten tired of waiting. We called mom to ask if they were going to come home anytime soon, but she told us they hadn't even left yet. Grandma and I were bummed, to say the least. We had waited for hours, and they weren't even in the car yet. We went to grandma's home and ate the cake.

The next day, mom and Paine came by to come pick me up. Everything was fine; we congratulated Paine and told mom that we didn't like what had happened. But it already had, so there was no use in dwelling on it.

Grandma asked me if I wanted to make them some coffee while she and mom went to sit down in the living room. When I brought them their cups, I saw Paine was headed for the office. My big-brother-senses kicked in, and I went after her to save her from hurting herself or breaking grandma's computer. I don't know why, but I had closed the door behind me.

Suddenly, there was loud crashing noise, a yell, and then more yelling. It sounded like crying. I raced to the door, opened it, and what I saw seemed so unreal I forgot how to speak.

My mother, my big, strong mother, was slamming her fists down on my tiny, fragile grandmother. Grandma was crying out in pain, while mom just kept on beating her with her bare fists. Paine had wriggled herself past me and the first thing I thought was: _she cannot see this. _

I picked her up so that she was facing behind me, and as I felt my little sister in my arms, it was like I suddenly woke up. I started yelling, no, screaming, _begging_ for mom to stop, but she kept on hitting. Every time her fists slammed down on grandma's back, she screamed, and I felt the tears rush down my cheeks as I begged her to please, _please _stop!

Suddenly it was over. Mom turned around and told me we were leaving. I cried. I didn't want to leave. I needed to stay with grandma to see if she was alright, to see if she wasn't too badly hurt. Mom wouldn't have it.

"We're going home _now!_" she yelled. She stepped over broken glass and spilt coffee, which I hadn't even noticed before. Mom had thrown her coffee cup on the floor and it had broken. It was grandpa's old cup. She broke a piece of grandpa.

"No!" I screamed back. "No! I'm staying with grandma!"

She grabbed me by my arm. I wouldn't let go of Paine.

"You're coming with me!"

Grandma was leaning heavily on her grand piano, and said: "Go, Roxas. I'll talk to you later. Just go."

"But I want to stay with you," I cried. Grandma made an effort to smile at me. It was a sad, pained smile. That hurt me even more.

"You can come back later, but for now go with your mom, okay?"

I nodded, and followed my mother to the car. I still held Paine, who was crying. The poor girl didn't understand what had happened of course, but I was sure she could feel the tension and the pain that clung in the air surrounding us. I put her in the car, and went to sit in the front seat. I cried silently, trying to process what had just happened. What just happened? I still didn't believe it, refused to believe it, but I knew it was real.

Mom tried to talk to me on the way back home, but I ignored her. She wasn't worth my time, I wouldn't waste my breath on her any longer. Mom and I had a weird relationship as it was, but now she had completely ruined it. There was no chance for us, not anymore. She hurt the person I loved most, and she couldn't do anything to win back my trust, if there ever was any. I was done.

When we got home, I went upstairs to my room immediately, in an attempt to escape her. But it was in vain, because she came after me. She threw open my door, and I immediately knew she was furious.

"Why do you love her more than me?!" she said dangerously. I kept silent. "What does she have that I don't? Huh, Roxas? Tell me!" I started crying again. I was afraid she would hit me like she hit grandma, and Auron wasn't there to save me if she did. I thought about what she could to to Paine, and I was just so terrified of what might happen now that I knew what she was capable of.

Her face morphed into a detestable expression. "How about if we split the grandchildren up evenly? Demyx and Xion get to see grandma, and you and Paine only get to see grandpa. Let's make it fair."

My stomach churned in utter disgust. I never really knew what had happened, but I knew _something _had happened between mom and her father. My uncle refused to speak to the man, and my cousins had never even seen him. Grandma always said: "I'll tell you when you're sixteen.", but I thought I needed to know now. Mom was so lost, I needed to know what had happened so that I could deal with it, with her.

"I want you to get out of my room," I said, and I felt so defeated, drained from energy. Mom didn't move. "Get out," I pushed, but still she didn't leave. Finally the emotions caught up with me, and I couldn't contain all of the anger, disgust, fear, and hurt anymore. I couldn't tell apart one emotion from the other, I didn't know what I felt as everything just blended together into a messy heap of human being. I felt worthless for falling apart like that, but I had too much on my mind to recognize that feeling. There wasn't any room for it, everything else just needed to get out. _She _needed to get out.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" I screamed, and when she left I fell on my bed and let the emotion consume me.

* * *

><p>Monday morning was slow, and as three o'clock approached, time only seemed to slow down more. I wasn't really looking forward to my talk with dad, but I wasn't nervous. I knew it was going to be all or nothing, and I was trying not to get my hopes up. Dad had crushed my hopes too many times, I couldn't afford to expect anything. Expectations kill you. They silently wait until you're the most vulnerable, and then they lash out, ripping you to shreds with their claws, feeding off your tears and misery. I don't know why I haven't learned. Expectations have killed me over and over again, but each time I'm resurrected by hope.<p>

Feeling like this, is what kills me. I don't feel anything, most of the time. I just feel empty. I'm pretty sure there's nothing inside of me. I'm just a hollow shell, lacking a soul, a person. I'm no one. How can I expect people to love someone who's not really there? How can I love myself when I'm not real?

I knocked on the front door. I looked at the closed curtains – in all of my life I don't remember them ever being opened – and I wondered if he would be home. Maybe he'd forgotten about me, or maybe he didn't need to talk to save what was left of our relationship. Maybe he'd already given up.

But then the door opened. Dad looked tired. I couldn't blame him; I hadn't really slept that awesomely myself.

"Hey," I greeted him.

"Hey yourself." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Do you, uh, want to come in?"

"Yes please," I said, and he stepped aside to let me inside the house. It was just like I remembered; a real fucking mess. Dirty dishes were piled up in the kitchen, the table was full of all sorts of papers and forgotten cigarettes. On one chair lay clean shirts, on another was a pile of dirty laundry. The TV had gathered a nice amount of dust on it, and it was very dark. The only thing that looked clean and organized, was the bookcase. Books were neatly stacked on top of each other, and there was no dust on any of them. Most looked well read; I knew for a fact that dad read most of them at least three times already. He loved to read.

"Coffee?" he asked. I nodded.

As he made coffee, I went to sit down on one of the clean-looking chairs. A few minutes later, dad set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of me, and sat himself down in the chair across from me. He lit up a cigarette.

"You wanted to talk?" he said, and I had to resist the urge to scoff. He was already pretending like nothing was wrong, like we had a normal father-son relationship. Try again, mister.

"Yeah," I began, "_we_ need to talk."

He cringed. Good, he knew he did something wrong. I felt bad for playing the adult, but someone had to do it. It was a shame it had to be the sixteen-year-old though.

"Look dad, this doesn't work. I want to be able to trust you, but you keep hiding and running away from something and I don't even know what it is. You need to talk to me, explain to me why you're like this. Because honestly, I can't deal with the disappointment every damn time." I may have been harsh, but that was what I felt and he needed to know what I felt. He stayed silent. "I just, I want you to be my dad, not my absent father."

"I'm just sad Roxas," he said desperately. "I hate that you don't know my mother, and I want to fix that. I want you to meet her. It really bothers me that she doesn't know who you are."

"Dad, I get that, but honestly? I'm almost seventeen and I've been doing fine without her. Grandma and grandpa have done a great job at being grandparents-"

"-don't you _dare_ imply that my parents wouldn't be good grandparents!" dad growled. I had obviously hit a nerve. I didn't mean to, it was just the truth. "My mom and dad would've been great for you, if dad hadn't died and if mom wasn't so stubborn."

I became exasperated. "Yeah well, he _did _die, didn't he? And your mother _doesn't _believe I'm your son, does she? It can't be helped, dad. We need to make due with what we got and I've been perfectly happy with the grandparents I did have." I took a deep breath. I knew I was treading on thin ice here. "Look, I'm sure they would have been great grandparents, but it just wasn't meant to be. I can live with that, why can't you?"

Dad didn't say anything. When he did speak up, his voice sounded small and broken, and I realized he'd started crying. "I want to go fix everything with my mother. And I would like you to come with me."

That surprised me. I was glad he wanted to make an effort to fix things, but I wasn't sure what my business would be with that woman. When I was born, she accused my mother of having cheated, and she never believed I was my dad's son. I never met her, and I was okay with that. I didn't feel the need to see her now.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, you have a problem with her, I don't really. I don't want to be in the middle of whatever is going to happen between you guys. I don't mind coming with you when you've visited her a few times, but you guys have a lot to talk about first."

"Yeah," was all dad said, and he looked defeated. That is when I realized that things would never get better. My dad was too much of a coward to go see his mother on his own, and he would forever be stuck in his own little depressing world, drowning in his self-pity. He would never stop hiding, never stop running. I could not deal with that.

"Until you resolve whatever it is you need to resolve with her, I don't think I want to see you." My chest ached. "It's not healthy for me to worry about you every second of every day, wondering if you haven't gone and fucking hanged yourself in this house." I felt a lump in my throat, but couldn't afford to break down just yet. "Let me know when you're done running, and maybe we can start over when you do." I looked at my knees, then at my coffee. I hadn't even drank any of it. Shame.

"I'll talk to her," dad promised. "I'll let you know how it went."

"Yeah. Sure. I'll talk to you then," I said and as I left the house, I knew it was the last I'd see of him, at least for a little while.

I didn't know at the time that 'a little while' would turn into five fucking years.

* * *

><p>It was a few days after the 'incident', the one where my mother abused my grandma. I realize there have been a lot of incidents in my life, but not one of them was as bad as this one, in my opinion. I went back to grandma's house to see how she was doing. She ended up going to the doctor because her neck was pretty messed up. Other than that, she only had a few bruises, nothing major. The emotional trauma though, was bad. She was so deeply hurt and angry, but most of all she was confused. She didn't understand why mom reacted like that.<p>

"What happened?" I asked her. "One moment you were sitting down and drinking coffee, like civilized people, and the next everything went downhill. What happened?"

Grandma sighed. "I don't know, Rox. I said something which she didn't like, and she threw grandpa's cup on the floor. I slapped her in the face. I knew I shouldn't have, but I was so upset. She _knew _that was grandpa's old coffee cup and she smashed it on purpose. I couldn't help myself. I never expected her to hit me back like that, though."

"She shouldn't have done that," I growled. I didn't know grandma had started with the hitting, and I certainly didn't approve, but she knew that what she had done was wrong, so I was still on her side.

"Grandma, why is mom the way she is? I know you promised to tell me when I turn sixteen, but I can't wait another year. I need to understand why she behaves like she does."

Grandma hesitated, a thoughtful look on her face. I knew she was trying to find the right words, and I waited patiently. What could've been so bad?

"Alright," she finally said. "I'll tell you. Don't tell her I told you this though."

"You know I wouldn't do that." Grandma and I had a great relationship. She was my best friend. I could tell her anything and I knew I never had to worry about her telling someone else. It worked the other way around, too. We kept each others secrets like guard dogs.

"Okay. When your mother was about eleven years old, her father and I had already divorced. He lived a few hours away, and she and uncle Zack went to live with him for a little while. One day, your mom came home to me, and she wasn't herself. She wouldn't tell me what had happened, but she cried and cried. You should have seen Zack, so worried about his sister. Poor little man." She trailed off for a minute. "Anyway, we never did find out what happened. She wanted to change her name from Fair back to Lockhart, and she didn't want to live with her father anymore. Zack still went. To change her last name, the police had to get your grandfathers signature, and when the police showed up at his doorstep is when everything went downhill. He got spooked, and confessed that he had touched your mother in ways no father is supposed to touch their children. No one is supposed to touch anyone without their consent like that at all."

My eyes widened. My grandfather had sexually assaulted my mother? I couldn't believe it. We still went to visit him every now and then, and he and mom seemed fine.

"But, she forgave him?"

"Eventually, yes. I was very angry and upset with the man, and Zack was so disgusted he vowed to never talk to or see his father again. Now you know why your cousins don't know him. Your mother however, suddenly decided she had forgiven him. I honestly don't think she ever got over the trauma, and that she is so messed up because of the past."

I needed to process all of the information for a minute, if that was even possible. I felt sad for mom, but being violated still didn't give her the right to assault other people. On the other hand, maybe she just didn't know better.

"When I was young, I remember being here, sitting in the office. I think I was crying, because there was lots of yelling outside. You, grandpa, and mom and dad were having a fight. I remember you coming in every once in a while to assure me everything was going to be okay, but you were crying as well."

Grandma nodded.

"Did that really happen?" I asked. Everything was starting to fall into place.

"Yes," she answered. "You must have been about five or six at the time. We were fighting over you. Your mother wanted to take you to see her father for the weekend, but your father wouldn't have it. He didn't want you near that 'child molester', and grandpa and I supported him. Your mom was none to pleased. She hit grandpa in the face that day. The hit was supposed to be for me, but he took it. In the end, the responsible grown ups won the fight, and your father took you to-"

"-to Paris" we said simultaneously. She smiled. "Yes, Paris. Do you remember anything from Paris?"

I shook my head no. "No, not really. Only that we didn't talk much. I think both of us had a lot to think about, even though we may not have understood everything."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

We sat in silence for a minute. Everything was so fucked up. If only my 'grandfather' (I honestly didn't think he deserved to be called that anymore) had kept his hands to himself, my life would've looked very differently. I tried to imagine having a good relationship with my mother, a mother who was loving and caring and didn't twist her own words around. I imagined being happy. But all those things _did _happen, and I just had to live with that, no matter how bad it felt or how bad _I _felt. You've got to play with the hand you're given, and if the hand sucks you'll play a bad game. I was envious of the people with the good cards; why couldn't we just divide them evenly? All of the pain in the world was felt by the same group of people, while the other group had nothing to worry about and lived their happy lives. It wasn't fair. But I suppose I wasn't being fair either by thinking that. Everyone has their own ghosts, after all.

"I wish grandpa was still here," I whispered. "He would know how to fix everything."

"Yes," grandma said, while tears silently flooded her cheeks. She looked old, older than she was. It made me realize how mortal she was. "Yes he would."

* * *

><p>After five years of relatively no contact with my dad, I had had enough. It was constantly bugging me, eating away at me. I hated not talking to my dad, telling him about the things that I'd been through, or complain about that one school assignment. I hated not being able to make bad jokes no one would appreciate except for him. I hated not having a dad, no matter how well of a job Auron did. This needed to stop.<p>

So I contacted him. I didn't hope he would respond, I didn't expect it. I'd learned from my mistakes. But when he did respond, I admit I felt so happy I could die. We talked a bit about this and that, not really anything important. It was fun while it lasted. A few days after our little conversation, I realized that I was still not fit to try to deal with him yet. I felt so fucking bad about myself, every day was a struggle to me. How could I deal with a man who felt the same way when I hadn't even figured out how to feel even remotely happy? I couldn't. I didn't have the energy to deal with him yet. And as if I had suddenly found the cure to cancer, all my worries disappeared in thin air. Like a magic trick. Where had the white rabbit gone?

Not worrying about dad felt good. I wished it lasted longer than a few months. After a while, the feeling of wanting to talk to him started nagging at me again. I was fucking twenty-two years old; I was in a position where I should act like an adult and not just pretend to be one, like when I was sixteen. Now I could do something about it. Even though he was the parent, I now felt I was carrying the responsibility to play a part in this whole thing. Making contact goes both ways, and maybe if I showed him I wanted him back in my life, then maybe he would return the gesture. It was worth a try at least.

So, one lonely Tuesday in February, I sent him a simple message:

_Do you want to grab some coffee soon?_

* * *

><p><span>DiZ-claimer: I don't own jack shit.<span>


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